101 Ways to Ask Rhonda Lloyd to Prom
by The Grand Dutchess
Summary: With prom just a month away, it's up to our bespectacled hero to ask the girl of his dreams to be his date. Will she say yes or will it be another let down? Grab your pens & notebooks to jot down pointers. This lesson will be about Asking Girls to Prom 101. A THREE SHOT.
1. The Beginning

**#004 - _A Knight's Tale_**

As a concept, being on top of a white horse was romantic. In real life, it was not practical. Thaddeus Gammelthorpe learnt that the hard way as he tried to regain control of the ivory beast while asking the maiden of his affection for permission to be her date to the promenade.

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd took one look at the hulking animal then took a giant, wise step back. A white horse was romantic. In novels or movies but in real life, nobody wanted to smell horse poo. She tried her best to ignore the foul odor that emanated from the horse's direction.

She glanced at the lanky boy sitting atop the steed. With his chunky glasses, bermuda shorts and unkempt black hair, he looked nothing like her prince charming. What in the world was he thinking?

"Will you go to prom with me?" he almost shouted to be heard above the horse's neighs.

Her face scrunched up, trying to listen to what he was saying since the horse would not shut up and she was a distance away from him. "I don't understand what you're saying, Curly!" she shouted back.

"I said, 'Will you go to prom with me?'" he yelled.

He was sure that this time she heard it for her left eye twitched. Just like the last three times before, when she rejected him. He could almost hear her sigh of annoyance. Her chilling gaze intimidated him and his eyes shifted to the side. Curly finally noticed what a big crowd they had attracted.

His breathing was once again shallow and he felt extremely cold. He focused on watching out for her reply. On just listening to the sounds around him. He tried his best to hear over the loud pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

Her friends giggled at her side. They always did when he asked her out. And subsequently got rejected. He would ignore the latter, negative thinking would do him no good. Positivity attracts positivity. Today was the day she's going to say yes!

"There is no way in hell I'm going to prom with you," she said with narrowed eyes before turning back and walking away, her giggling friends right behind her.

Ouch. So much for positivity.

He had a split second to feel dejected and humiliated before the horse galloped away from the school fields without his command and he clung to the reins for dear life. He could hear the laughter of his peers as he passed through the school gates on top of the undomesticated animal.

**#016 - _Blonde Ambition_**

"Don't you ever get tired of being rejected?" Helga asked him one morning after she sat down beside him on the bleachers.

"Don't you ever get tired of just being in the shadows?" he asked, clearly aware that this might get a violent reaction from her. Instead of a beating (Thank God), she just shot him a pointed look and scowled. "And why aren't you participating in the stimulating physical activity specially planned out just for us?" he gestured to the basketball court.

Curly watched as a dodgeball hit Eugene straight in the face. He winced at the impact.

Beside him, Helga smiled. "I'm exempted."

One of his black brows arched without looking at her. He paid close attention the girl on the court wearing itty-bitty shorts dodging flying balls that were directed at her face. She was incredibly graceful at it. It was as if she was part of a New York dance troupe auditioning for Swan Lake. "How?"

"I caught him swilling liquor in school property," she proudly said. "I struck a deal. I don't rat him out if I don't have to participate in PE for a month." _Him_ referred to their PE instructor, Mr. Gailey.

"Only a month?"

"I figured I shouldn't push it. I feel sorry for the guy. He's depressed."

"But you love PE!"

"Says who?" Helga scoffed."Just because you're good at something does not mean that you enjoy it."

Curly felt sorry for Mr. Gailey too. His alcoholism was only a recent thing. "You'd feel depressed too if your wife cheated on you and then left you to be with an older man who is a David Bowie lookalike. You didn't feel sorry enough for him not to blackmail him?"

"All's fair in love and war as they say," Helga shrugged and decided to switch back to the original topic of discussion. "So, how many times have you asked her?" she laughed.

It was an oddly great, musical sound that Curly have not heard in a long time. Not since _he_ came back from South America with a girlfriend. This time _he_ didn't refer to Mr. Gailey but to a certain blond football head. _He _was not to be discussed in any of their chats. Curly figured that out about the second time he mentioned _his_ name, that slip of the tongue earned him a black eye.

"Fifteen," he dreadfully admitted.

Helga whistled in disbelief. "That's a lot of times."

"Yeah, it is," he said, getting annoyed at where this was going.

"You're not having any luck," she pointed out the obvious.

"You're a genius," he muttered through gritted teeth. Helga's grin only got wider.

"Watch this," Helga said as she stood up. She placed her hands on each side of her mouth then yelled. "Rhonda!"

Curly's eyes widened in shock. "What the hell are you doing? Sit down!" He tried to pull on her arm to get her to sit back down but she just elbowed him away.

Down below, the sweaty, raven-head goddess turned towards the bleachers at the sound of her name.

Helga continued screaming, "Curly wants to know if you want to go to the prom with him?"

The obnoxious loudness of the uttered sentence and Rhonda's mortified face caused Curly to bury his face in his hands.

He heard the reply without looking up. It was shouted as well but there was a hint of amusement in the tone. "Can you tell him the answer is still N-O? And that next time, not to let his friends do the dirty work. Thanks!"

Their classmates laughed. He could hear Gerald's distinctly deep chuckle.

"Will do!" Helga shouted back.

Only when he heard Helga plop down next to him did he lift his face from his hands. "You're an asshole," he mumbled.

She laughed. "I've done my good deed for the day."

"How is that a good deed?" he asked, incredulous.

"Didn't you hear what she said? She's waiting for a next time," Helga said with a smile. "By the way, the number is now sixteen. See you later, sport."

With a great pat on his back, Helga collected her things and was gone.

_Next time, not to let his friends do the dirty work…_

Curly smiled at the implied meaning. Rhonda expected him to ask her again. She also expected him to do it himself. He would not disappoint her.

**#023 -_ A Little Party Never Killed Nobody_**

He spotted her immediately.

She was dressed head to toe in red - sparkly, crimson dress with dark, cherry stiletto heels. It made her stand out and appear larger than life. Elegant, beautiful and dangerous. She stood alone which puzzled him since she was always surrounded by people in school. So why would Rhonda Lloyd be alone at one of the biggest parties held every year?

He wanted to find out.

He grabbed a bottle of the alcoholic juice from the cooler that she always drank at parties. It was the pink one, grapefruit, which was her favorite. Then, he made her way towards her. He weaved in and out of the throng of high school students with nothing to do on a Saturday night but drink and dance to forget all their adolescent troubles. He would have joined in the celebrations if not for the higher purpose he was there to fulfill.

He was there solely for her.

It took longer than expected to reach her and when he finally did he was a slightly out of breath. He stopped himself from just thrusting the bottle into her hands. When she finally noticed him beside her, her eyes widened then a flash of irritation marred them.

"Curly not now!" she growled. Her eyes travelled around the room as if she was waiting for someone to show up and she played with the hem of her dress anxiously.

"Why? Are you in crisis?" he asked, hoping she remembered the reference. At the way she quickly turned to face him again, he knew that she remembered.

"Why are you here anyway?" she asked, clearly exasperated. As though she had given up at trying to shoo him away.

"I came to gave you this," he said, giving her the cold, bottled drink. Her hesitant hands took it and she shot him a wary glare.

"You're here to give me an alcoholic beverage?" she asked in a flat tone.

"I'm here to get you to have fun," he replied with what he hope was a debonair smile.

She continued to stare at him as though he had grown another head. He gulped at the awkwardness. Moments passed and there was still silence.

He was ready to bolt and just leave her but stopped when she started to speak.

"You hope to achieve that by getting me drunk?" she gestured to the bottle in her hand.

"No! I don't want to get you drunk," he said sincerely.

Her featured softened for a short while then her mask of indifference came back on.

"Just buzzed," she said in the same dead tone.

He shrugged. "I figured a little would loosen you up."

"Enough to say yes?" she snapped. He sensed that she was getting angry again.

"No! Just… Alright, look, you're standing alone and you looked miserable in the middle of what is supposed to be the most fun and highly anticipated party of the year. I just wanted to make you happy. I figured giving you a drink would not hurt," he said in a firm but kind voice.

At that, her eyes became sad. "My supposed date didn't show up," she said softly with her hands going up as if to gesture how ridiculous the situation is.

Curly nodded but he didn't say anything. He took the bottle in her hands, twisted the cap to open it and then gave it back to her.

"I'd say it's his loss," he said as he watched the people on the dance floor. He purposely avoided her gaze because at that moment he did not want her to see how much he was hurting for her.

Beside him, he heard her take huge gulps. Then, her hand grabbed his.

"I suppose the best form of revenge is to have a great night, don't you think?" she said. Her eyes asking him whether she should really commit to this.

"I completely agree."

She didn't need another confirmation. She led him to the dance floor.

He followed her in shock. It felt like an out of body experience whereas he was watching this amazing thing happen from the outside even though he was incredibly and honestly involved in it.

The music was fast and loud and the crowd pushed their bodies closer than it had ever been before. He gave her a sloppy, one-sided smile and she laughed. Beautiful and enchanting, she was. He wished that this moment lasted forever

"I can't believe I'm doing this with you," she said into his ear. _He couldn't believe it either,_ he thought as his fingertips grazed the soft milky skin of her arms.

"Just try to have fun," he said, taking her hands and guiding her around the floor. Throughout the whole party, they jumped and spun and twirled. At one point there was a dance battle with Helga that was incredibly hilarious and was not to be taken seriously. In between, someone suggested they took shots which everybody thought was a good idea. After that, she decided to play tag with him and hide and seek in the bedrooms on the second floor.

It was the best night of his life so far.

They danced until their feet ached and their stomachs hurt from laughing too much. She drunk until her world swayed and she had to grab his arm for support. He stared at her until she giggled so much that she collapsed in a laughing mess on the floor. Just as he bent down to retrieve her and she looked up at him with glazed eyes and an open mouth.

Curly's eyes landed on her flushed cheeks and half-lidded stare. She was so darn gorgeous like this. So immensely happy.

"Thank you," she said softly.

He gave her a small smile. "It's nothing."

One of her fingers made his way to his mouth to shush him. "No, really, thank you," she repeated.

His heart started to hammer hard on his chest. He swallowed the great swell of emotion that formed in his throat. "You need to get up," he said simply.

He waited for her to give him her hands so that he could pull her up. What she did instead was wrap her arms around his neck and bury her nose in the crook of it. He hissed at the shot of pleasure that coursed through his body caused by the intimate contact but decided to focus on his task of getting her off the floor.

"You're a good guy, Thaddeus," she whispered.

That was only the second time she had ever called him by his real name. He couldn't remove the grin from his face as he held onto her slim waist and helped her up.

At 3 AM, Arnold suggested that maybe he should take her home. Curly agreed. And so began the longest drunk walk that he had ever witnessed.

"Okay, Rhonda, love, we're almost there," he said as he huffed and struggled to bring her to his car.

"I wish I could dance as well as Helga!" she slurred, her slims arm tightened its grip around his shoulders.

He laughed and grabbed her waist closer so it was easier to guide her through the parking lot. "You're already a great dancer."

She pouted. "Helga is marvelous!" she yelled.

"Hey, you have to keep your voice down now. People are trying to get to sleep." He was wheezing by the time he opened his car door. Rhonda was slender but she was almost as tall as him which meant that her body weight was almost the same as his.

"Sleep. Sleep sounds really good," she murmured dreamily.

Curly tried his best to get her into the car without any injury. Except for a banged knee against the side of the door, he'd say he managed pretty good.

He closed the door at her side and locked it immediately in case she got any drunken ideas of opening it while he was driving her home.

He entered the car and sighed. He realized that throughout the evening, not once did he bring up prom, his very sole purpose of being in that party. That and the pleasure seeing her of course. He had forgotten because he was having too much fun with Rhonda.

"I think I'm very pretty," Rhonda said in the darkness of the car with her eyes closed and her head leaning back against the seat.

He laughed and attached her seatbelt.

"I think so too," he said.

She hummed her approval at his thoughts. "You know, that's one of the few times I _really_ had fun at a party."

Curly frowned as his car pulled away from the driving space and turned to the street. "Really. Why?"

She snorted. "Parties are overrated. It's great company that can't be beat."

"So, I'm great company?" he teased. Chancing a glance at her when they approached a red light.

Her eyes were still closed but she replied, "Yeah, one of the best."

His heart sang with joy at those words.

"Rhonda, I was wondering… You know, since we had a good time at the party anyw- What I'm trying to say is, maybe, if, you know, I have asked this many times..." He paused to get a grip on himself. "What I wanted to say was that maybe, this time, seeing as how we had a lot of fun tonight, maybe we could repeat the experience at prom? Would you now like to go to prom with me?"

Her lack of reply scared him. Coincidentally, they had reached her house.

So he turned to look at her and could not believe at his utter lack of luck.

Rhonda Lloyd snored. She was asleep.

Then, as if a slow madness crawled in his insides, what started out as a small bubble burst into a full cacophony. He laughed and laughed and laughed. When he was done, he got out of his car, carried Rhonda to the door, rang the doorbell, was ushered in by one of the household's staff, and had put her to bed, placing a gentle kiss on her smooth forehead.

He realized that even if he did not get to take her to the prom, he had this night to remember.


	2. The Middle

**#039 -_ Music To My Ears_**

It was great to be alone at last. The silence was lovely.

Few would know that Rhonda Lloyd, the queen of socialization and gossip, actually prefer some alone time every now and then. Everybody needs time to be alone but because she's surrounded by people all the time, they all expect her to be some kind of super extrovert. She's not.

She's just extremely busy. And extremely tired, most of these days.

With cheerleading commitments, being part of the prom committee, a freelance journalist for the school paper when there's an empty spot for an article that needs to be filled in, maintaining her reputation by having to attend _all_ those parties (and trying to avoid Curly), Rhonda's time is completely taken up by everyone else's. Never her own.

This would be the first day in weeks that she had some spare time. And she loved it.

She smiled as she got out of the steaming shower after taking a long time to wash herself. Putting on her robe, she hummed a little tune and then cozied up by the window seat, her favorite part of her bedroom. She sighed as her fingers dug into her scalp, drying her hair with a towel.

_If a double decker bus, crashes into us_

_To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die_

At first, she thought she had reached a level of relaxation that allowed her to hear the soothing sounds of The Smiths. But then, the song continued and got louder.

_If a ten ton truck, kills the both of us_

_To die by your side, well the pleasure, the privilege is mine…_

She froze and her eyes squinted in realization. Quickly peering through the window, she groaned when her suspicions were correct.

He was holding a boombox above his head and he was beaming up at her like some goddamned 80's movie.

Rhonda begrudgingly opened her window and stuck her head out.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed. "And how did you get in?"

He continued smiling which pissed her off even more. "I came to serenade you," he said.

"Really?" she said in a tone so flat it could make a model's chest envious.

"I can't sing, so I brought The Smiths instead. I remember you like them," he said with a shrug, still holding up the ridiculous boombox.

_He remembered._ Rhonda wanted to smile but then stopped herself. This was Curly for crying out loud. She was not thinking it was romantic.

"You need to turn it off! My parents may catch you and think the worst. They might think there's actually something going on with us when there clearly isn't."

At her last statement, Rhonda saw his smile drop. She felt the familiar twinge of guilt well up in her stomach when it comes to dealing with him. So not good. She decided to change the subject.

"I asked you, how did you get into our property?"

"Oh, that. I know Mr. Jefferson," he said as if it was no big deal.

"You know our butler?" she exclaimed.

"Yeah," he said. She breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed his smile coming out again. He lowered the volume of the player.

"He's the one who brings around your family's clothes to our shop."

"You wash my clothes?!" she gasped. The idea highly disturbed her. Oh God, what about… what about her underwear, has he seen those?

But then Rhonda's moment of horror ended when he burst out laughing. Curly put down the boom box to one side.

"You should have seen your face!" he spurted in between fits of laughter.

"It's not funny," she declared, raising her chin higher just like a proud Lloyd who had been embarrassed.

"If you must know, it's mostly your dad's suits and your mother's dresses that needed dry-cleaning. Not whatever kinky things you hope it was that I should have seen, my sweet," he said with a sly grin. The gleam in his eyes told her he knew what she had been thinking just seconds before.

Her face heated up then she decided that she would kill him if he didn't stop staring at her like that. It did weird things to her insides. She hated him. Or at least she used to before that blasted party where she got drunk and lost her mind.

She'd been trying not to think about what happened between them at that party for a week. It's been proving very hard but she could say that she was succeeding. However, his presence this night would be a major setback. Rhonda really blamed the alcohol but could not escape the fact that she was not drunk yet when she dragged him to the floor to dance.

"I hoped for nothing," she almost spat. "You should go before I release the dogs on you."

"I would gladly be eaten by German Shepherds if you'd go to the prom with me," he said, looking up at her.

At that moment, with just the two of them in a scene that replicated Romeo and Juliet, the moonlight hitting his eyes in just the right way that it appeared as though they brilliantly glowed and with his earnest expression, Rhonda Lloyd was ashamed that she was very tempted to say yes.

Then the moment ended and she replied "No" before closing the window.

Instead of being disheartened, like she expected, she heard his laughter, followed by a "Good night, my sweet!"

She didn't turn back, continuing where she left off with her hair, but she whispered with a small smile, "Good night, Curly…"

* * *

**#051 - _Roses Really Smell Like Ohhh…_**

Two weeks before prom.

He had to two weeks to convince her to go with him. What freaking happened to the other two weeks that he had? Well, he got rejected about more than forty times, by now he's lost count. He probably could now compete for a Guinness Book World Record.

But he had to, he had to convince her. He had to be with her. It would kill him if she wasn't. Not literally but emotionally? Figuratively? Either way it's still bad. He just wanted a chance. Just one shot before she moves out of their hometown to marry a rich French prince who own ten yachts and keeps her in their Parisian apartment, making love to her the whole night before serving her breakfast consisting of croissants and freshly squeezed orange juice that the bastard probably squeezed himself because he is just that dedicated. The thought depressed and angered Curly.

"_I _could squeeze orange juice," he muttered after reaching his locker.

"I have no doubt you could," he heard someone behind him say. He turned and there she was, like an angel sent from above.

His beautiful Rhonda. Her eyes gazed into his then she was suddenly looking at the floor. As though unsure of herself which was strange for someone who was born, with sometimes what their peers would think, a little too much self-confidence.

"I like orange juice," she said. Then her face scrunched up, horrified that she had just said that aloud. He wanted to kiss her for being so adorable at that moment but he broke into a grin instead. "I also…"

She cleared her throat. He waited. Kind of smugly if anyone asked.

"I'd like to thank you for the beautiful bouquet of red roses you sent to my house this morning," she said quickly, as if the words lingered they would burn her tongue.

"How do you know they're from me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Because it said 'From the greatest man you will ever meet or go to prom with'."

"So you read the card?" he asked.

"Yes, I read the card," she sighed.

"And the rest of it?" he pushed.

"Yes."

"And?"

"And what?" she said.

"Just… and?"

She sighed again, this time she combed her fingers through her hair in frustration. "It's not going to change the fact that I'm not going to prom with you."

The way she dismissed the card as if he didn't pour out all of his emotions into the words in it stung him.

"Has anyone else asked you?" he said.

"Yes." She did not seem to be in the mood to be following up with the one-word reply so he prodded.

"How many?"

"Five."

By now she looks extremely uncomfortable.

"Did you say yes to any of them?" he asked.

"Curly," she said. It was the closest thing he'd ever heard of her pleading.

"Did you say yes?"

She remained quiet.

"No."

He nodded.

"So it's not just me?" he said, followed by humorless laugh that was so unlike him, Rhonda's eyes widened.

"No. Yes. I don't know!" she burst out. "I've been busy with a lot of things and I… I mean, I'm even part of the prom committee."

That was the flimsiest excuse he had ever heard.

"You can't bring a date because you're part of the prom committee?"

If she said yes, she would be lying. If she said no, it would be of great insult to him. Rhonda was trapped.

She started to turn the tables on him.

"What about you? Haven't you asked any other girl out?"

"Of course not," he said, as if the idea was preposterous.

"Why not? You should, at this rate you might end up not going with anyone," she said, as if the idea of him not asking other girls out was preposterous.

"Because I don't want to ask any other girl out!" he said loudly enough for some of the students to turn and look at them.

Rhonda's expression of shock manifested through her extremely wide eyes and open mouth.

As luck would have it, Helga approached the two of them.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" she teased.

"Nothing," Rhonda replied tersely. "I was just leaving."

And she did, stomping down the hall.

"Whoa, what got into here? I know I usually repel people but wow! I didn't know I had that much effect," she said proudly.

"Helga?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up," he said, slamming his locker before leaving her there. It didn't take long for her to appear at his side again, her face awash with realization.

"You guys just had your first real couple fight!" she said excitedly.

He snorted. "We're not a couple. She won't even go to prom with me."

Helga got silent after that. "Why do you want her to go to prom with you so much anyway?"

"Why do you love _him_ so much anyway?" he shot back.

He regretted it the moment it came out of his mouth. Curly wanted to say something to take it back.

Helga opened her mouth then she closed it and shook her head. "You… It's just, people never understand."

"Try me," he said softly.

"He's great. He's the nicest person one can ever meet."

"I didn't say you should tell me why people like him. Why do _you_ like him?"

Helga gave him a small, private smile. "I don't really know. I just always have."

"Ditto. I like Rhonda just because. There's no rhyme or reason to it. I'm drawn to her like a moth to a flame. No matter how dangerous it may be that moth does not give up trying to get close to it. I guess you could say I'm suicidal. When it comes to her, at least. Pathetic, isn't it?"

For the first time, Helga seemed to be sympathetic towards him and gave him a comforting pat on the back before saying, "Come on, we've got to get to class."

They did. And for two hours he was miserable as he sat behind the girl of his dreams. Oh, the irony.

* * *

**#075 – _Bright Like A Diamond_**

Rhonda stared at the velvet box in her hands. Her hands were shaking and cold as she tried to stifle the excitement rising inside her. How did he pull this off?

Only moments before she was just trying to get her AP Biology workbook when she saw the blue inconspicuous box just sitting atop her worksheets.

Now, she's staring at the most gorgeous diamond necklace. It sparkled and reflected light in such a beautiful manner that it almost took her breath away.

Rhonda smiled as widely as the first lottery winner in history. Then, she closed the box shut before slamming her locker and ran to homeroom where he would be.

She wanted to thank him. She wanted to express her gratitude. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to go to prom with him. She'd been meaning to say yes a couple of times already but every time it happened her lips form the word no before she could stop herself.

Her long lanky legs ran as fast as they could go, until she was gasping. He stood in the middle of the room, leaning his butt against the desk as he talked to Stinky and Sid. Arnold was in the far corner shooting Helga a few anxious looks.

"Thank you," she said quickly and loudly that all the occupants of the room turned towards her.

Curly's brown eyes gazed at her curiously. He tilted his head a bit to one side.

"To me?" he asked. "Whatever for?"

"For this," she said with a wide grin, holding the box higher so he could see.

Her grin started slipping away when he appeared confused. "I never gave you that," he said.

She froze.

"But it's in my locker…"

Someone cleared his throat. All heads turned to him this time. Stepping out of the corner of the room, Arnold held a hand up just as a student would to claim that he's present.

"That's actually from me," he declared, a hot blush forming on his cheeks.

"You gave this to me?" Rhonda asked in a perplexed tone at the same time Helga burst out, "You like her?"

"Uh, no," he said, answering Helga, "I must have gotten the lockers mixed up. It's for you."

At that, Helga's eyes widened and it was her turn to blush. There was a very awkward silence that filled the room and at that point Rhonda felt incredibly stupid. More so when Curly started staring at her. She focused on Helga and Arnold and what was about to happen instead. It would be a culmination of years of bullying, unrequited love and missed chances.

Rhonda could not be dragged by wild horses no matter how much mortification she felt.

"I love you, Helga G. Pataki," Arnold said sincerely. Helga gasped and Rhonda was sure she heard Stinky exclaim "Wilikers!". Sid and Curly were absolutely quiet for some reason.

Arnold walked towards Rhonda to retrieve the box and she gave it to him without protest and an uneasy smile.

After doing so, he made his way to Helga stopping just a wee distance away from her.

"I was stupid. In denial. I realize now that I can't keep covering everything up and pretend that I feel nothing. I feel everything for you, Helga. I love you with all my heart and I'd gladly spend the rest of my life with you, if you'll have me that is."

A steady gush of tears leaked from Helga's eyes that made Rhonda feel worried. All these years, she had never seen Helga cry and to see her so vulnerable like that… it was unsettling.

But then she smiled, slowly at first then it grew wider and wider until she was bursting with happiness. Arnold handed her the gift which she opened with such wonderment that one would never suspect to come out of Helga Pataki.

"You really mean it?" she asked with hesitation.

"Of course," Arnold said. His eyes crinkled with the grin on his face as he brushed some of the strands of hair that blocked her face.

It was unexpected. But one should always expect the unexpected when it comes to Helga. In a flash, her arms were around Arnold's neck as she kissed him with such ferocity. It was passionate and romantic and everything that Rhonda dreamed love would be.

She was happy for them but she could not suppress the flicker of envy in her heart that instantly flashed at the image of her two childhood friends finding what looks to be a forever kind of love.

She didn't even noticed when he appeared beside her. Only when he spoke did she jump and realized his presence.

"They look good together, don't they?" he commented with a wistful smile.

"Yeah," she replied. Somehow, the scene before them, so similar to how love was portrayed in the movies, robbed her of speech. It was beautiful and touching.

"You'd think we'd look as good as that?" he asked in a half-joking manner.

"One half will definitely be stunning," she said and was shocked when she realized she wasn't referring to herself. Curly grinned and leaned closer.

"They're probably going to prom together," he whispered.

Rhonda gulped. "Probably."

Keeping his low tone that made Rhonda want to run away due to its effect, he said, "Why did you think it was me?"

Of course there was only him who was in love enough with her to buy an expensive diamond necklace as a present.

"How many shifts at your parent's store would that cost?" she said as a way to avoid the question.

"If I worked straight for a year, I might be able to afford it."

His hot breath on her ear and the way his fingers have now clasped her hand shot a bolt electric need throughout her body. Rhonda tried to wriggle out of whatever spell he was casting.

"The bell is about to ring," she said and made her way to her chair to sit down. She didn't look up nor did she want to but her body was very aware of the moment he passed her by and proceeded to his own seat, which was directly behind her.

At that point, Sid and Stinky were getting back into their conversation while Arnold and Helga was lost in their own world, muttering sweet nothings to each other.

The bell rang bringing the throng of students into the room. People took their seats and she heard a squeal that sounded suspiciously like Phoebe's but she still didn't look up.

Rhonda was far too jumbled up in her own thoughts to notice or care.

Just before the teacher started the lesson though, she felt the familiar heat of his breath on the nape of her neck and heard the words, "If I buy you a diamond necklace, will you go to prom with me?"

Rhonda doesn't reply but she smiled all throughout that lesson.


End file.
